the thing with anger | simon

[Nathaniel David Forrester]

now you see me.

NATE HEADED FOR THE FIRST PLACE HE COULD think of without lashing out. Typically, it would be Nessa he sought out when his patience wore to a fine line and he didn't wish to be alone. This time, he had trundled past simple-minded anger and fallen headfirst into a warped fury that made him want to scream. It wasn't that he loved Claudia, at least he didn't think he did. Maybe he had, Nate wasn't quite sure how that felt. All he knew, in the white-hot strips of piercing clarity, was that he'd been fucked - and not in a good way, either.

Simon's pathetic, blistered face of guilt was burned into the backs of Nate's eyelids, his sorry bouncing along the walls inside his mind. He hated him, he'd decided. For a different reason than he hated Claudia. She had done exactly as he expected of her. Even when they were wrapped around one and other, and she promised him that he had all of her, he had known it was bullshit. It just sounded nice, it just felt nice. Simplistic in its basic need. He had wanted her, and that was humiliating. But, he still expected her to do something heinous to screw with him. It was that it was Simon she'd used to do it, it was Simon who'd done it anyway.

Nate had known what he was doing when he'd taken Claudia from Simon. Had been deliberate in his pursuit and his consumption. The same way he had been calculated when he'd slept with Jessie while knowing she was in love with Simon. That was before, though, in Nate's warped timeline. Before he'd stayed with Claudia beyond the ploy of it. Before he'd given Simon back all of his stolen shit and actually deciding he liked him. Before he'd realised Simon was probably the only mate he had that wasn't forced into proximity with him. And he'd just looked so fucking sorry.

Out in the cold, Nate felt the wind whipping his ears he headed for the owlery at a manic speed, just shy of running. He wasn't so shameless that he would sprint like a damsel in distress. He just wanted to be away, disappear and smoke himself in to oblivion until he didn't care anymore. Erase the two from his mind and forget he'd ever tolerated either of them. The stairs were slick when he took them, his jaw clenched so hard that he worried it was locked. His shoes slipped on the last step and Nate had to grab the handle and grunt a gasp of air as he steadied himself.

His joints ached when he stood tall, but his skin too tight and hot. He pulled his robes off and tossed them across the room in a heap, reaching for his jumper next and pulling it over his head by the back collar. His shirt was rumpled and riding up where he was outgrowing it. Chest heaving with a smoker's breath as he crossed the owlery and gripped an open window port, the great arch whistling as the wind swept through the gaps like a haunted instrument. He bowed his head and curled his knuckles against the stone, scraping them continuously along the stones until the scabs there pulled free and weeping. He was going to punch something again, but it wasn't as satisfying when it wasn't a pliable, fleshy surface.

The sound of approaching, hurried footsteps did not rouse Nate, he had known absently that someone was following him. Claudia wouldn't be seen dead in the owlery, most certainly not for Nate. Maybe Simon though, his treacherous mind interjected and he screwed his face in rejection of the intrusive thought. That didn't matter, he'd decided. They were welcome to one and other. He would graduate soon and never again be forced to lay eyes upon either of them every again. And he'd be happier for it. It sounded like a lie even as he thought it. 

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[simon sixten svendsen]

(Following immediately after this thread)

Simon stupidly followed Nate up the spiraling stairs to the owlery. There was a part of him that told him he should leave Nate alone and allow him to cool off before facing him because he was unpredictable, but he also didn't care. Nate had become one of the closet people in his life, they had gone through many highs and lows, but this was the lowest of the low. Simon blindsided and backstabbed Nate. For months he lied straight to his face with Claudia wrapped around him without thinking twice. How could he have been so stupid and selfish?

Now that he had seen Nates face firsthand and the hurt that his friend was experiencing, he regretted it, whole heartedly. As much as Simon cared deeply for Claudia and he wanted to be with her, Nate was a significant person in his life. Not that he had treated him like it. There was a lot of resentment between both of the boys over the past year but there was friendship there. After tonight, most likely not. Simon hated himself for constantly hurting the people he cared about.  Maybe that was why he followed after Nate. He had nothing to lose. Hell, he knew he deserved an ass beating if it came to that, so he'd face it like a man. 

His shoes slipped with a squeak on the final dewey step, carefully he caught his balance as he was met with the sound of Nate punching an unforgivable stone wall. That should have been his sign to turn away. Overcome with guilt, he wasn't thinking straight. Neither was Nate, apparently. This wouldn't be a 'smoke a spliff and get over it' situation.

Simons heart beat at his chest vigorously after climbing the stairs to the tower, his stomach churning with anxiety. He stepped into the owlery fully finally but keeping his distance, "Nate, please," he plead. Barely sure what words to string together. To be quite honest, Nate was fucking scary in this situation.

Nathaniel David Forrester

[Nathaniel David Forrester]

now you see me.

THE SKIN AROUND NATE'S KNUCKLES THROBBED but he barely felt it. A mixture of the cold, and the adrenaline. He felt invincible, but not in a thrilling, pleasurable kind of way. More so, Nate felt as if he could throw himself out of the owlery's arched openings and bounce when he landed. He imagined dragging Simon and Claudia down with him, and as if summoned by his darkest fantasies, Simon's voice accompanied his heavy feet. It broke the gentle scraping of Nate's knuckles on the stone, and his shallow, rapid breaths. The sound grated in his ears.

"'Nate please'." He words cracked from Nate's throat as he turned to face Simon in the dark. His voice high and mocking as he imitated Simon's desperate apology. "'Nate, I'm sorry'." He added, recalling that pathetic attempt at an apology, while he still had Claudia's lipstick smeared all over his mouth. It was sickening, because Nate didn't want it to matter. 'So what', he thought. Claudia didn't matter, he'd only gotten with her so Simon couldn't. Except, the moment he thought such a thing, the angrier he became. Because it did matter, because they both didn't even respect him enough to tell him first. He'd had to hear it from everybody else first, it was humiliating. 

"You know-" Nate was walking when he said this, hands loose at his sides as he crossed the owlery towards Simon. His pace just a little too fast to be non-threatening. "This whole fucking thing would be so much funnier if you stopped acting like you cheated on me, instead of Claud." He was grinning, a foul thing that stretched his lips at the corners. "Is this the part where you get on your knees?" He asked cruelly, his hands snatching out to grab the front of Simon's shirt so he could pull his face towards him. They were almost nose to nose, teeth bared. He wanted to hurt Simon, to punch him and see if it felt better than the stone had. But first, he had so many things to say.

"Did she get on her knees for you?" He asked, his breath fanning over Simon's face as he looked at him cross eye before shoving him away all at once, his fingers tearing at his shirt. "She got on her knees for me." He drawled, his eyes puffy and wild as he glared at Simon, tongue running along the backs of his teeth. "God, you must think you're so fucking special." He barked a humourless laugh. "Are you saying sorry because you think she loves you?" He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as if in pity, but his fingers still flexed with the urge to punch. "Who would fuckin' love you?" 

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[simon sixten svendsen]

Following Nate to the Owlery was a terrible idea. Once he had the snake in front of him, he knew it. How could he repeatedly be so stupid? Simon seemed to hurt people in his life over, and over, and over again... He knew he was being selfish, but a part of him thought that if the situation were reversed, Nate would have probably done the same. Who knows...

Simon watched Nate silently as he mocked him, clenching his jaw as he mentally prepared himself for a scuffle. Fuck. That wasn't what he wanted, but it was surely what he deserved. Simon could smell fresh blood in the air, streaks of crimson splayed on the wall where Nate's knuckles met the unforgiving stone. 

Nate grabbed Simons shirt, yanking his face inches from his as he spat cruel words, barring his teeth like a mad man. Simon pushed Nates hands off of him as he stepped backwards, soles of his shoes squeaking on the damp stone floor. He didn't know how to react, everything was happening too fast to process it all.

Nate asked multiple questions Simon didn't know the answers to, nor did he believe he wanted answers. "I don't know." he stammered lamely, hating that Nate scared him in his current state. For good reason. Simon couldn't remember having Nate on his angry side. Simon felt pathetic. "It all got out of hand, we-I didn't know how to tell you." he told him, going silent as he watched the snake carefully.

    

Simon couldn't believe he was stupid enough to follow Nate to a tower of all places, where he could easily overtake him and push him off if he so desired. Sometimes his own stupidity frustrated him. Simon noticed  Nates hands balled up, he was waiting for him to strike at any moment.

Nathaniel David Forrester

[Nathaniel David Forrester]

now you see me.

THERE WAS SOMETHING SINISTERLY THRILLING about the way Simon's sweaty hands pulled and swiped at the hands Nate grabbed him with. A poor excuse for defence, but they weren't fighting just yet. Nate was just venting, the words spewing out of his mouth without a proper, conscious thought to accompany them. It was pure, unfiltered anger convulsing in his throat. The beauty of it was, Simon looked scared. All wide eyed and pale faced, his gums flapping as he replied lamely, in the bout of silence between Nate's spewing.

"That's what I thought you'd say," He said lowly, an intimate whisper that went against the tension in Nate's posture. It was like a bad script, thought Nate. How Simon scrambled to make Nate understand his point of view, when he already did. He just hated him for it. There was a beat of silence, where Nate simply stared at Simon and his slack mouth. At the lipstick smeared at the corner of his mouth and the defeated curl of his broad shoulders. His chest heaving with every hateful breath he took, puffing out white and misty in the chill of the owlery.

"You've ruined everything," He said finally, shaking his head as he did. Voice shaking and tight with the amount of anger and frustration it stored. "I hope the two pumps were worth it, mate." His lips curled at the corners. And then he reached out again, shoving at Simon's chest. An almost teasing jolt at first, just to see how it would feel. Then, he used his other hand and shoved again, harder this time, enough to cause a bit of an imbalance. "I want you to fucking hit me," He told him, fingers stinging when he stretched out his fingers to push again. "Hit me so I don't have to feel bad when I kick the shit out of you." An unhinged nod of his head, then he used two hands to shove him into the opposite wall. 

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[simon sixten svendsen]

Confronting Nate about Claudia was going far worse than he imagined it could go. Being alone with Nate in the astronomy tower accompanied by the pouring down rain was a terrible idea. The look in Nate’s eyes scared Simon, he truly looked like he wanted to hurt him. Nate was unpredictable, he lived his life like a game of chess and Simon had no fucking clue how to play chess. The half-vampire never considered what he would do once he wasn’t on Nate’s good side. Tonight, he’d find out.

As Simon debated what to do next, he could feel the shift in their relationship beginning. A page would turn and everything would be different after they left the tower that stormy night

Nate shoved his hands toward Simon again and he slapped him away. ”No, I don’t want to hit you Nate.” he objected, pushing Nate’s hands off of his chest again. Simon didn’t want to be the first to hit, that would only make him look worse considering, well, everything. Wet sneakers skid under the wet cement as Nate shoved him much harder this time. Simon tried to find his balance but his back was me the wall. His palms pushed off the stone and he attempted to gain distance from Nate but it seemed impossible. ”I’m sorry.” Simon said again, knowing he was wasting his breath. All of this was stupid. Fighting over girls and lying was fucking stupid. It was a hard lesson to learn but it was unfolding before his very eyes. Simon watched Nate with intensity, preparing himself for the inevitable, ”Fucking hit me man if that will make you feel better.” Simon told him, growing frustrated by the anticipation of it all. That was stupid, considering Nate already considered to beat the shit out of him. His heart was beating out of his chest as the back of his head already began to swell, he had no idea how he’d talk himself out of this one.

Nathaniel David Forrester

[Nathaniel David Forrester]

now you see me.

EVERY MUSCLE IN NATE'S SOUR, POINTED FACE had tensed in preparation. Almost giddy at the prospect of being hit, he had braced himself. As if Simon would ever do as he was fucking told. When all he felt was the soft brush of defeated breath as Simon spoke, the fight went out of Nate all at once. He unclenched his fingers around Simon's shirt, his shoulders sagging briefly in complete disappointment. After a long, empty beat of airless tension, Nate leaned in.

"You are so fucking disappointing." He drawled, his cold gaze dropping as he gave Simon a final once over. His lipstick stained face, the way the collar of his shirt was stretched by Claudia's searching grip and Nate's furious one. There was a button missing near the top. His hair flat on one side and static on the other from grooming fingers - Simon's own, or Claudia's?, he wondered. "I don't know what anyone has ever seen in you." He snorted as he leaned away, as if to get a better look and finding it all sorely lacking. "What a fuckin' waste."

And then, as if the last hour of simmering rage and tension had never happened, Nate turned away. His hand searching in his trouser pockets until he found a battered packet of contraband cigarettes. He pulled the last one free with his mouth and chucked the empty packet over the owlery's edge. When he went patting for his lighter, he came up empty. There was a soft clearing of phlegm at the back of his throat, the only indication that he was becoming anything other than apathetic. The air was chilly, quiet, bleeding opportunity. Another fruitless pat, the cigarette abandoned and loose between the sticky, dry skin of Nate's lips swung precariously. From the corner, he finally spoke with his back to Simon.

"You know what?" He mused flatly. "Changed my mind." Suddenly, with no goading from Simon or any indication of forethought at all., Nate swung on his heels. His arm pulled back and with every last bit of strength in his stringy, broadening shoulders, he punched Simon hard enough to drive his head into the wall behind him. Nose mashing under bruised knuckles. His own blood mixing with Simon's as the boy's teeth split the skin of his own lip and bit into Nate's. It felt good - no, it felt great. 

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[simon sixten svendsen]

For the first time in Simons life, he was actually terrified of Nate Forrestor and what he was capable of. Hell, he knew that he was troubled and had anger problems…why would Simon ever think of sneaking behind his back for anything!? It was foolish. All of his decisions were flashing before his eyes as Nate scrutinized him with a cold stare, sending a shiver down his spine. In that moment, Simon believed his every word.  He was the biggest fucking disappointment and  a traitor.

Simon watched closely as Nate turned his back to him. His hands balled up, ready to explode at any moment. Simon had a sneaking suspicion that he’d regret telling Nate to hit him, full heartedly. Something about the offer cured his own bruised ego, like he’d pay for what he deserved (and asked for).

There wasn’t much time for him to say anything, as Nate turned on his heel, stating that he changed his mind.

Nate swung back, sending a solid, full force,  punch straight to his face. His nose to exploded with warmth under her knuckles.  Simons legs buckled  under him uncontrollably as he collapsed to the floor. His head hit the stone wall behind him. He could have sworn he felt his brain jiggle against his skull before warm blood pooled on the ground and then everything went black. 

Nathaniel David Forrester

[Nathaniel David Forrester]

now you see me.

THE IMMEDIATE GRATIFICATION FROM HITTING Simon would be long remembered. Even as Nate surely sprained a few fingers and left himself with a scar from the shape of his teeth. He went down hard, from the punch or the ricochet of his skull against the stone wall Nate couldn't be sure. He watched him crumple with a delirious little laugh, recalling the way he dropped like a puppet with its strings cut as he cradled his arm against his chest. He deserved it, Nate thought, as his fist throbbed angrily.

However, when Simon didn't immediately come for Nate in retaliation the delight faded ever so slightly. He lay sprawled on the tower floor, arms and legs akimbo. Blood caked around his nose and split lip. Nate grunted, shaking out his fist with a flinch as he crouched in front of Simon and pushed at his limp shoulder. "Move, idiot." He snapped sharply, but there was no response. A slack, mashed mouth and a pool of dread opened in Nate's guts. He cursed quietly, getting onto his knees so that he could put a hand under Simon's head and check for a wound. Luckily, his fingers were dry as they prodded a small lump at the crown of Simon's head. And when he leaned in close, face inches from his, he felt a grumbly little breath gust across his face. He was alive, by the grace of Merlin alone. Just... unconscious.

Very seriously, Nate considered leaving Simon to rot for his crimes. Let him sleep cold on the tower floor and wake up with the mother of all headaches. It was the least he deserved, but as the thought occurred to him, Simon's lax figure gave a concerning little gurgle that gave him pause. If he left, what if Simon vomited in his sleep? What if he choked on his own blood?

Nate cursed again, sliding an arm under his shoulders and pulling the boy up to a sitting position. He propped him against the stone wall, where he sat like a deflated doll, mouth open and eyes shut, where one was gradually swelling. Nate felt a sweat break out across his forehead as he slumped down beside Simon's body. His satisfaction from the fight was leaking out of his bones, along with that cold anger that had driven him to the tower in the first place. He was stuck waiting for Simon to regain consciousness, thinking about a skirt shucked up and his ex-friends head thrown back in ecstasy.

Nate scrubbed an aching hand against his tired eyes, rolling them behind his fingers at the irony as Simon's drowsy body teetered to one side and his head found a space on Nate's shoulder. He made to push it off angrily before he stopped, where it was resting he could feel the steady pulse of Simon's ragged breaths. With a heavenward sigh, he left Simon's head where it lay and turned his face away, almost soothed by the presence of his even breath on his neck as he waited for him to regain consciousness. Wasn't he supposed to be throwing Simon off the tower's edge? He struggled to connect the dots of guilt and cruel anger. 

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[simon sixten svendsen]

As Simon lay on the cold stone floor of the tower, his world transformed into a dark blur. It was impossible to know how long he lay on the wet floor of the astronomy tower but in that time his eyelids fluttered with visions of Claudia. And Luna. Nates request to "get up stupid" went to deaf ears.  

After some time, Simon's eyes slowly pried open in a state of fear and confusion. His body wasn't flat on the ground, he could feel Nate there, propping him up against his body.

His head pounded excruciatingly as the taste of iron continued to flood his mouth. His confusion started to grow while regaining consciousness, it was suddenly impossible to remember what had just happened. Everything happened so fast, but he knew it wasn't good. It felt like a nightmare unfolding. The pain he was experiencing made him wish to fall back asleep and forget it all.

His chest raised with raggedy breaths as he weakly tried (and probably failed) to pull himself away from Nate's grip, sweaty palms attempting to grip and slap against the stone floor. "What the fuck are you doing" he sputtered with a groan, knowing he was completely vulnerable to Nates wrath.

Nathaniel David Forrester

[Nathaniel David Forrester]

now you see me.

IT WASN'T TOO LONG BEFORE SIMON BEGAN TO slowly come back to consciousness. Nate sat with his back against the brick wall, thinking of all the ways he'd have liked to hurt Simon, and especially Claudia. It was a bitter train of thought, wicked and sickly, turning his stomach. He wanted to ruin their lives, to hit back harder than he had been hit. It was dizzying, his hatred. His mind replaying that image on a loop, of Simon's mouth on Claudia's neck. The ecstasy of it, the humiliation. He felt no relief in Simon's interruption.

Breath stuttering, wet and clammy against his neck where Simon's head and come to rest. He felt it heave inward once, as if Simon's brain was reminding itself to breathe in consciousness. And then there was a groan, a shudder, and Simon's hands were reaching out to push against Nate clumsily. To put distance between them. Nate could have laughed, wanted to tell Simon that he'd practically been nuzzling him just a minute before, but he didn't. He turned his head silently, the space between them both so small he saw that Simon's pupils were blown, but even. Probably not concussed, at least. A pity, he thought, his expression terribly blank as Simon garbled around a mouthful of spit to speak.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Nate asked, his knees hiked up, arms loose at the wrist where they lay over the top of his bent knees. He picked angrily at the skin around his bruised, split knuckles. "D'you think we stopped to cuddle?" He mocked him openly, but again he kept thinking of Claudia. "You passed out," He added, almost reluctantly. "Like a pussy." He added, just for himself. And then he reached over, his furthest away arm grabbing Simon's jaw sharply. His thumb digging a hole in the hollow of his cheek, pressing hard enough to hurt. He turned Simon's face, admiring the split lip and the crooked slant to his long, Roman nose. "Does it hurt?" He asked, voice soft enough that it could have been misconstrued as concern. Except, Nate really wanted it to hurt. 

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[simon sixten svendsen]

Simons eyes brow furrowed to the center of his forehead with confusion, only making his head hurt more. Nate called him a pussy as a metal taste filled his mouth, causing Simon to spit a mouthful of blood to the ground. Nate grabbed Simon's face, hard, thumb squeezing into his cheek hard enough to make his molars bite his own cheek. That hurt like hell but he wasn't going to admit it with Nate asking like a complete psychopath. His Gryffindor pride would always win the best of him, especially in a stupid fight. 

”Fuck you.” he spat acidly, body tensing as his feet kicked up on the cold stone to wiggle away from Nate, with little to no luck. Light headedness took over his equilibrium, blurring his vision in and out. Simon pushed a clumsy hand towards Nates chest to release himself from his grip with still no luck. He was too weak in his current state. And as much as Simon hated to admit it, Nate was larger than him, so Nate had full control of the situation.

Half of Simon expected Nate to throw him off tower, leaving him barely recognizable to all of Hogwarts and his family. Was Claudia worth his life? Was she worth his friendship with his best friend? Not really..

A wave of memories flickered past his eyelids, he was barely sure what was reality anymore. Unfortunately, this wasn't just a nightmare, he could tell by the amount of excruciating pain he was in. Simon swallowed, pulling his face away from Nate who had a terrifying look in his eyes.  "What do you want, Nate?” he finally asked pathetically, heart beating against his chest. For one of the first times in Simons life, he was actually scared for his life.


Nathaniel David Forrester

[Nathaniel David Forrester]

now you see me.

THE AIR SMELLED HEAVY WITH IRON AND SWEAT and Nate wondered if he'd ever not want to hit Simon when he looked at him. It was a hard scenario to imagine. His thumb digging into his cheek, the sight of his nose crooked and whistling every time he drew in a painful breath giving him a sick satisfaction of a job well done. It was hatred surely that kept him so close, like watching something shrivel as it burned. A fascination with destruction.

It didn't last long, Simon's instincts kicking in as he kicked away from Nate, wrenching his jaw out from under his grip. Nate was almost miffed about it, his fingers cold and sticky from where they'd stuck against  a congealed spit of blood on Simon's chin. "You already did," He sneered, pulling up onto his knees as if readying to fight again, but Simon's movements were feeble. "No wait, that was my girlfriend you fucked- you just fucked me over." He growled, his jaw clenched as he refrained from leaping towards Simon where he lay half sprawled on the ground and panting like an injured dog.

There still wasn't much space between them, though Simon had truly tried. In fact, from where Nate was kneeling, he was practically crouched above Simon's lurching form. There was more than enough room to swing again, and Nate was tempted, his chest tight with the desire to cause more pain. He leaned forward as Simon pulled his head away, his chin squared and bloody. But Nate didn't swing as he'd first considered. Instead he leaned his head forward in a rush and without a second of rational thought he crashed his mouth against Simon's.

Nate tasted blood in his mouth, but he couldn't tell if it was new or old; Simon's, or his own. His hand curling around the front of Simon's shirt as he kissed him angrily, just for the briefest of moments. A punishing clash of teeth and lips. When he pulled away, it was with a blank expression that revealed nothing of intention or interpretation. His chest heaving with breath, his fist flexing where he'd held himself away from Simon. It hadn't been anything like kissing Claudia and yet, as he slumped back against the stone moulding and let Simon go, he dashed a hand over his mouth and wondered if that's what desire was supposed to feel like. Like wanting to kill something, but kissing it instead. "Just wanted to know what all the fuss was about." He muttered, cool in his admittance. He'd turned his face away, a dismissal. "You can go now." 

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NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[simon sixten svendsen]

Simon squirmed against the cold cement floor of the tower. A tidal wave of memories rushed over him at an overwhelming pace. Where did he go wrong? Was this world of pain worth it? Deep down, Simon knew he wouldn’t get away with it from the very beginning. Nothing got past the the Hogwarts rumor mill. This time was no different. Embarrassment and shame brewed deep down inside of him. He wasn’t sure how he’d live this one down.

After Simon asked what Nate wanted from him, there was a darkness in Nates eyes that made him regret asking such a question. Nates eyes gave him the answer. The way the young man was looking at him caused a chill to run down his spine, hands sweaty as lightheadedness and weakness took over him. Everything moved in slow motion as the taste of iron filled his mouth. His blurred vision gave him the sensation as if he was looking through a camera filter.

His entire body tensed as Nate yanked his shirt gruffly toward him, smashing his lips into his. Simons lips reacted for a split second before his lips felt stubble. Pushing his hands against Nates chest, hard, he stared back in mere confusion. That was the last thing he expected Nate to do. Unable to hide his disgust, he suddenly found the strength to pull himself off the floor. ”What the fuck, man!” Simons icy saucers widened, nearly popping out of his head as he staggered to his feet. “What is wrong with you!?” He exclaimed, a weird combo of anger and confusion rushing over him. Simon wanted to flee the scene but he found his feet glued to the floor as he was completely baffled on what to do next in his dreamlike state. Simons heart beat out of his chest as he breathed rapidly, his expression judgmentally conveying 'are you gay?'.


Nathaniel David Forrester

[Nathaniel David Forrester]

now you see me.

THE HARSH PUSH OF HANDS ON NATE'S CHEST should have stung a bit, but Nate just wrenched himself away and out of immediate reach. The taste of blood still lingering in his mouth as he landed with a hard thump on the cold concrete. Dashing a hand over his mouth where it stung from Simon's teeth and his own. It hadn't been especially decent, it hadn't even been particularly enjoyable. It had felt necessary, though, among the mad clash of angry thoughts in Nate's pickled brain. Like had to see through Claudia's eyes, if only for a moment. Why was he worth shagging? Why ruin everything for a prick like Simon? Simon was exclaiming, but Nate just felt cold all over, deaf around his ears.

Shuffling until his back was against the brick wall, chilling the skin of his back as he folded his knees up against his chest. There was no adrenaline left to push him forward, he'd officially ran out of fuel. He slung one arm around his bent legs and pulled at his bottom lip with the other, prodding at the sorest part with tongue and finger. At the bitter exclamation from Simon, Nate lifted his head with his bottom lip pinched between his fingers. What was wrong with him? What was wrong with him?! What was wrong with him...?

Nate blinked slowly, like a curious, mute crup. After a moment, he sniffed his sore nose and shrugged. "I dunno." He answered after a long beat of silence, biting on the inside of his broken lip until he tasted blood again. He let the silence settle over them again, but didn't look away from Simon's outraged expression. He hadn't looked so animated since Nate had walked in on him railing his girlfriend. Gone was that sad, pathetic expression of useless apology. Nate preferred this Simon, the one all flushed with indignation and accusation. He rather wished that had been the Simon he had fought, it would have been far more satisfying.

"I hope I never see your fuckin' face again, Simon." Nate said plainly, without that spitting anger that had propelled him for so long. He looked almost... resigned. Young and vulnerable curled against the cold brick wall of the owlry. "Go shag Claudia in every single room in this miserable old castle, for all I care." He turned his face away, staring out the archway as an owl fluttered by with a wriggling creature in its mouth, the cold night sky glittering in the far distance. Nate could see his own breath as the temperature dropped. "Just as long as I never have to see you... or her... ever again." And he didn't look back, he didn't even really blink as he felt himself drift into a cold dissociation. He didn't say another word, he didn't even seem to breathe for a few seconds. Just a still, curled figure of a boy in the draping darkness.

[END NATE?]

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